His wings beat at the bars of a cage
Bloody and bruised, yet full of rage
Crimson colors the merciless bars
Pain throbs in his thousand scars
Midnight shrouds the searing sun
Dark thoughts he could not shun
He contemplates his impending end
The bars of the cage refuse to bend
He calls for death in a glorious tune
Like a Wolf howling to the moon
A prayer he sent to the gods, a plea
To take his soul so he would be free
No god or man came to his aid
His inner strength is his only trade
Pain scorched his wing, seared his heart
More determined to split the cage apart
The bars broke, they pierced his chest
Blood soaked his feathers, his crest
Heavens became his refuge, his nest
In the arms of Death he found his rest
Maxwell O’Reilly
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